


Silent.

by Werepirechick



Series: These blood red eyes, don't see so good, but what's worse is if they could. [2]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: ......the hurt/comfort is more hurt than comfort tbh, Aftermath of Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brother Feels, Bruises, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Angst, Minor Injuries, One Shot, Physical Abuse, and not being able to do anything about said shittiness anyways??, but also not admitting it to yourself, fuuuuuuuuck that episode, god just fuck this entire series, i need that tag to exist bc that's what's happening here, is there a tag for knowing your life is kind of really shitty???, post When Worlds Collide, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 14:22:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11899593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werepirechick/pseuds/Werepirechick
Summary: Mikey’s skull aches still, even a few hours later. His neck, too. From the whiplash.And it’s not just because of the table, or the thrashing, or the army guys who’d held him down and put him in restraints.Nah. This smarts like something homemade.Raph always did have the best right hook.





	Silent.

**Author's Note:**

> so i was Really Feelin The Feel about mikey last night, and some other gross things i sometimes remember, and well... i've been meaning to do a sequel to Mute for a while now. so here you all go.
> 
> kind of a prequel to These Days, but yeah can be read standalone.

Mikey’s skull aches still, even a few hours later. His neck, too. From the whiplash.

And it’s not just because of the table, or the thrashing, or the army guys who’d held him down and put him in restraints.

Nah. This smarts like something homemade.

Raph always did have the best right hook.

The bruises on his arms and legs aren’t so bad. Those he can handle, they’re practically normal these days. One thing or another is going to give him a few bumps, and he’s been dealing with those for years. A little bit of ache to his gait is normal, what with the life he and his family lead.

It’s just… head injuries, right? They get to him, sometimes.

At least Raph got to keep his pet. The fact that Chompy gets to stay on earth should keep him in a good mood for at least a few nights. And Raph in a good mood is harder to piss off. Mostly. Mikey just needs to play his cards right; enjoy the mood while it lasted.

Leo, too. He’s in a good mood, another successful mission under his belt and getting praise for it from their father. Mikey’s two older brothers are with Splinter, sitting on the couch and recounting the feats they’d achieved that evening. Both Raph and Leo are smiling, and their father is returning the expression.

Mikey considers for a moment, going to join them, see if he can possibly insert himself in the conversation without getting annoyed looks or talked over completely.

He decides it’s not worth the effort. He’s tired. Near death from something they’ve all had nightmares about, once or twice, is a little draining on a turtle.

He vaguely wonders if either of his brothers know, or if his father does. The debriefing was chaotic, before everyone separated to go home or wandered off into their lab (Casey, April; Donnie). He can’t remember if he actually got around to saying _hey, guess who nearly got vivisected tonight?_

Mikey honestly can’t tell. He’s not entirely sure if he would have gotten much reaction either way.

Better to just leave it. He’s alive and that’s all that really matters.

His temples throb, the dark bruise there getting darker.

Ice. He needs ice and a pick me up.

Mikey slips around the edge of the room, quiet and invisible as he heads for the kitchen. He doesn’t feel like attracting attention right now. Too tired to keep any real bounce to his step. He’ll just get some ice, maybe snatch a few band-aids from the medical kit, and hit the sack.

The bruises should be gone within a few days. Even the ones Raph gave him.

Not like that’ll matter.

They’ll be back. Or rather, replaced soon enough.

Mikey keeps a lot of ice in stock, inside the freezer and behind his private pizza pops stash. Kitty is an excellent guard cat, keeping people away from both of those things.

“Heeeeeey, pretty girl,” Mikey whispers, opening the freezer. “Guess who made it back in one piece?”

Kitty covers his cheeks with cold ice cream residue, licking and rubbing. Her kitty kisses soothe some of the ache to his head, the coolness sinking into a few smaller bruises he’s nursing on his cheeks. Mikey gives her gentle pets to the head and back, minding he doesn’t squish her soft little body.

Kitty is, without a doubt, Mikey’s favorite person. She’s always in her freezer, no matter what time of day or night it is, and she’s always, always happy to see him. No strings attached, no insults or shoves to give.

Even if he’s gone and messed up that evening, or not feeling like smiling too brightly, she’s always happy to see him.

He really does love Kitty for that.

Mikey gets his ice cubes, already inside a baggie and ready to go, and gives Kitty one last kiss to the forehead before he shuts the door. He’d stay longer, maybe even until the sun rose, but he’s already risking it being out this long.

Even if it’s unlikely they would ask, Mikey’s decided he would prefer not to have to recount his part in the adventure tonight. He feels like his brothers would get on his case for being caught so quickly; Leo especially, since he’d specifically left Mikey to guard the rear while they went for the ships. He messed that up, and with something so important to Raph at that- he’s pretty sure at least one of them would be mad.

He’s not sure what Splinter would do. Maybe frown a little, and then remind him to work harder at training. Or maybe do nothing at all.

Mikey leaves the kitchen, and skirts the center of the room again. Next stop: a very, very swift visit to the lab’s medical kit.

He’s got cuts on his arms and legs, where the edges of the restraints cut into his scales while he struggled. They’ve all crusted over, barely even hurting as he walks, but it’s better to clean and bandage them anyways. He lives in a filthy tunnel system, and an infection could happen so easily. His brothers would be upset too, if he couldn’t go on missions for a few days. And if he did anyways, and messed up at a vital point because he was too sick to focus right…

Yeah, better to just not get sick at all.

Mikey’s nimble fingers open the medical kit with practice ease. It’s close to the door, thank god, and he’s gotten good at being in and out before anyone even knows he’s been in the room. Donnie gets pissed if he comes into the lab without permission or invite, and Mikey is just. Too wound up and exhausted to navigate a fight like that. Not right now.

He fumbles with the box of larger band-aids, the box slipping from his hand as he takes it out. It falls on the floor with a hollow _tunk,_ and he grabs for it immediately.

“Mikey?”

He freezes, halfway upright and curled around the box.

Donnie had been sitting at one of the tables, and Mikey hadn’t noticed since his head was down. Mikey had thought his brother had gone to his room to get something, maybe take a shower while the washroom was still free.

Donnie’s mask is off, and he’s got bags under his eyes as he looks Mikey over. He seems a little confused as to why Mikey is in his lab.

“Uh,” Mikey mumbles. He doesn’t want a fight right now, with anyone. “Sorry. ‘m leaving right away.”

Donnie’s eyes slide to the rest of Mikey. To the cuts, and the bruises.

He looks at the big one on the side of Mikey’s face, from where Raph decked him. Mikey can feel him do it.

Donnie’s shoulders rise, and then fall as he sighs.

“…come here. I’ll… I’ll help. It’ll go faster.”

Donnie’s about as gentle as Kitty was, putting a cool disinfectant wipe against his cuts and wiping away the dirt. They sit in silence, Mikey letting his brother efficiently clean and bandage each small injury.

Mikey kind of still feels the sharp tools looming over him, primed to pry open his plastron and take him apart. He thinks of the bruises and cuts as a small price to pay, considering how bad it really could’ve been.

He wonders if Casey told Donnie about what happened. That Mikey nearly died.

He wonders if Donnie would care enough to be worried, or upset.

…Mikey’s fine, so he kind of doubts it. If it’s not something big and life-threatening, there’s not much worth in anyone causing a fuss. All his organs and blood is where it’s supposed to be, so it’s whatever. He’s fine.

Donnie turns Mikey’s head to the side, examining the spot Raph punch him. It hurts the muscles of Mikey’s neck, tender as they are, but he doesn’t make a sound.

Donnie stares at the bruise for a long, long moment. Then he takes a wipe, and cleans it so gently Mikey barely feels any pain.

“I’m sorry,” Donnie whispers when he’s done, wadding up the used wipe. “That must’ve hurt.”

Mikey shrugs. It’s not the worst he’s ever gotten. He’ll survive just fine. “It’s nothing.”

Donnie doesn’t frown, or even grimace. He just looks tired.

Mikey kind of wonders what Donnie got up to tonight, while he and Casey were strapped to those tables. But he’s too tired to really ask. It was probably less stupid than his misadventure, that much he can guess.

“…thanks,” Mikey says, standing up from his stool. He presses the packet of ice to his temple, relief coming immediately, and he sees Donnie’s eyes follow the motion. He doesn’t say anything about that or the bruise. He just says, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Dee.”

“…okay, goodnight,” Donnie says softly, and Mikey feels him watching as he leaves.

His father and brothers are gone from the couches, so Mikey only has to sneak a little bit as he heads for his room. There’s light coming from under Raph’s door, which he tiptoes past, and the sound of water coming from the washroom. Both his brothers are occupied, and his father is nowhere in sight. It’s a hollow sense of relief.

His temple aches less, for the ice and care. The bruises on his arms and legs, along with the cuts there, hurt only a little now that they’ve been cleaned and bandaged.

It’s enough, but also… not.

Not much he can do about that.

Mikey opens his bedroom door silently, and shuts it just as.

**Author's Note:**

> it's a little dumb, but i doubt i'll ever get over that elevator scene, or how shittily canon treats the b-team.


End file.
